


We Walk

by attentionmerrymakers



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Post-Apocalyptic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-16
Updated: 2011-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-27 10:37:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/294882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attentionmerrymakers/pseuds/attentionmerrymakers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>do you think, he says one night, we're the only people on earth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Walk

You find him on the roof of a Sears, the tallest room in the tallest tower.

You saw him from far away, a spot of blue amongst steel grey, and so you tore down your camp and went to find him.

He's just sitting there, which means he's crazy, or in denial, both of which are dangerous right now. You approach him like you would an animal, slow, steady, but he just turns and says

hi, my name's john.

and he smiles

and it _rocks your world_.

You say hey my names dave, and you ask him if he wants to stick with you.

 

He's around your age, you think, which means: young. His family is dead, just like yours, but you expected that. You knew that.

The difference is that he talks about his.

It's startling, sometimes, after all these days of solitude, to look over and see blue. He hums, and makes noise when he walks, and doesn't know how to start a fire. He tells stories to keep you awake and he used to play piano and he can't use a weapon for shit. It's kind of overwhelming.

One day ago you were nothing, a pile of bones with a sword.

Today, you are a knight.

You feel as though someone has handed you a precious package and told you to keep it safe.

 

do you think, he says, one night, we're the only people on earth?

You don't say anything. The thing that startled you most, the first night after that first day, was that without city lights you could see the stars.

or maybe, he says, stretching his hands wide, spreading the stars between his fingers, we're the dead ones and this is the afterlife.

gods a huge bitch either way, you say, and this makes him chuckle.

i'm glad there aren't zombies, dave.

yeah me too dont think excalibur would take kindly to gray matter

ew.

yeah

He rolls over and looks at you.

could you teach me how to fight?

what the fuck for there's nothing out here but trees

john egbert: pine tree hunter.

i can see this happening

just witty one liners everywhere

you boys are barking up the wrong tree!

its a really sappy show

looks like i need to...branch out.

the studio execs wont leaf you alone

Unfortunately, this strain of conversation runs on for far longer than either of you would care to admit.

Eventually:

so what do you say?

about what

teaching me to fight!

i think the real question here is dave do you trust me with sharp objects

and the real answer is?

hell no

you're no fun.

its not about fun what if you stab me in the eye with your stupid novice arms

then i will teach you braille!

calling bullshit you dont know braille

then i will hold your hand, he says, and i will make sure you don't fall.

You close your eyes against the stars.

 

You smell the ocean before you see it, and you pick up the pace.

He laughs at you, splashing around on the shore with all your clothes on.

man, you really are a city boy.

fuck off so are you mr suburban three car garage

two-car, he says, and pulls off his shirt and joins you in the water.

You're floating on your back, and he's doggy paddling around a few feet away humming the Jaws theme, when:

my sister and i went to the beach every summer. we'd pack a picnic basket and take our dog, he says, and even his voice is blue now.

did you ever do anything like that, dave? with your family?

You hold your breath and let yourself sink underwater.

You get a nasty sunburn from the day's excursions, while he, irritatingly, becomes merely tan.

He sits behind you and rubs at the peeling skin on your back.

y'know, i'm not sure if this is actually good for sunburns.

whatever

He wraps his arms around you and rests his forehead on your shoulderblades.

You sit for a while in silence.

the night before, i got into a fight with my dad, he says.

You're very still.

i said that i wished he was dead, he says.

i said i wished everyone was dead.

You turn around, grab his shoulders, no okay john whatever youre thinking isnt fucking true, but he's shaking his head and saying it's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault.

This, says an echo of a voice long gone, is survivor's guilt.

i could have saved them.

fuck

i

john

there was nothing anyone could do

i could have done something.

youre not a god, you say, and that's when the tears start.

 

 You've been sharing a sleeping bag since the third night, when he heard you in your sleep. He never tells you what you say or what he hears, but sometimes he looks at you like you're the one who needs protecting.

 you planning on repopulating the earth egbert, you say because he's closer than usual. He smiles at you.

don't worry, dave, i won't get you preggers and then leave you for some floozy.

im not believing a word until i see a ring

let's name our baby nicolas.

are you actively trying to give him a shitty childhood

He laughs, and you smile,

and he kisses you.

This doesn't necessarily mean anything, says an echo of a voice long dead. After all, you're all the other has left.

You think shove it lalonde and you kiss him back.

 

When you finally fight, you fight like teenage boys: shoving and wrestling and blindly punching each other to the ground until you're covered in bruises and leaves.

Afterwards, you sit on a log, sucking on your bloody knuckles.

He grins proudly at your black eye.

stuff it youre not exactly a beauty queen yourself rocky balboa

you look like a raccoon.

yeah well you look like your face got caught in a sausage grinder but you dont hear me complaining

You lean to the side and spit out a gob of blood.

wow, that was really far!

hey thanks dont mean to brag but i was the heavyweight spitting champion of '08

did you live on jupiter?

what

because that's the only place you'd qualify as 'heavyweight.'

You throw a pinecone at him.

but seriously man you got one hell of a right cross

that's the mangrit, dave. it's okay to be overwhelmed, and maybe even a little scared.

ill show you scared, you say, and headbutt him into the dirt. He goes down laughing.

 

You guess it was too much to ask to be the only people on earth. The man's in a suit, with scars on his face and bloodstains on his knives. You stand in front of John, who is still blinking away the sleep from his eyes.

just back the fuck off, you say, and your hands are slippery on your sword.

doubt youre gonna use that, kid, he says, and shows his teeth.

im warning you man unless you want a big goddamn hole in your gut then be my guest

hey, he says, almost pityingly, do you even know what youre doing?

have you ever killed anyone before? he asks you, and you stop

to

think.

David, please listen to me. Assisted suicide has been a staple of our culture for aeons. It's nothing to be repulsed by.

Trust me, little bro. It's far better for us this way.

I don't wish to resort to histrionics, but this is painful, do you understand? Would you have us starve to death? Bleed to death?

I'd ask for you to attempt to see this from our point of view. It's exactly as I showed you in training. The killing stroke, do you remember? There's no room for error.

There's nothing to be afraid of.

You could do it in your sleep.

It'd be over so quickly.

Listen to your sister.

David.

Dave.

 

dave!

The man is very close.

The sword falls from your hands, uselessly.

And you watch as he brings his knives up to your throat

and

you

watch

as John smashes the back of his skull in with a hammer.

 

Your head is cradled in his arms, and he's rocking you back and forth, saying shhh.

i killed them, you say, and he tucks your head under his chin. no, dave, remember? it's not our fault.

no

god

fucking

i killed them

this isnt some bullshit im saying cuz im grieving over all the stupid jackasses who dropped like a bunch of flies

they asked me to kill them

they told me to

You think he suddenly understands, because his grip on you tightens.

they said that theyd rather be put out of their misery, you say, and he says, oh, no, no, shit, that's not fair to ask you to do that, and god knows that's the truth.

so i did, you say, and your voice kind of shakes.

i did what they told me to

like always

i'm sorry, he says, and the two of sit in silence until dawn, until the day breaks and you can finally let go.

 

You keep moving. You're not sure why. There's nothing to run from, nowhere to go, but he doesn't say anything so you don't stop.

One day, maybe, when your sword is rusted and John is tired and your shoes are worn, then you will stop.

But until then, you walk.


End file.
